A Collection of Harry Potter Stories
by Amaniachwen
Summary: Item One: RL to SB with Love It's not very long, but it's sweet even if RS isn't your thing. I would really appreciate it if you would RR. :3 Thanks for your time.


Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, nor is any other character be he/she friend, fan, lover, or enemy of said boy.  
  
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Item One  
RL to SB with Love  
  
I write sometimes, dearest, did you know? This time I write to and for you.  
  
It is a quiet, summer dusk, and the butterflies have vanished from outside my dreary window, anxious to return to wherever they emerge from in the early morning hours. Here at my old and hollow desk -upon which is this new as-of-yet blank parchment and before which I sit- a ragged peahen quill is in my aging hand. The same hand, in fact, that nearly two decades ago touched your face, but sadly, I have forgotten the occasion for it.  
  
I do remember, though, the expression on your face. There really isn't one word to describe everything I saw, but I suppose a casual observer could say it was surprise. What did I see, you might have wondered? Besides the obvious surprise -which truly was not so stark as my written word deems it to sound- I witnessed a gentle relief, a calm almost, although you never were altogether that even as a teenager. A sort of exchange of kindred spirits was conveyed and held meaning only to the two of us.  
  
As for my own expression, I am certain I looked quite amazed, for I was. I never believed the face of an angel could be tangible, you see. It was wonder enough how you had managed your way down to me from heaven, but to let me touch you and for you to feel so real....  
  
It is one of my sweetest memories.  
  
When we first met, I did not really see you as I would later. All my childish eyes would acknowledge was a slim, young boy who skipped classes whenever he pleased and caused mischief where mischief need not be. For these reasons James always suited you better than myself. I was never so infatuated with you that I would ignore my responsibilities completely, but ironically, that might be mostly in part that I could not ever due to my, to put it gently if possible, wild nature. Because I am a werewolf, I could and can never sway from the capable and trustworthy image I have maintained without the risk of utterly ruining myself. Yes, I know that the risk is exciting and so on, but without you around I have no one to support and comfort me should I fall from the pedestal I created what seems so long ago.  
  
That reminds me.  
  
Do you know, the stages I have personally established of my life only pertain to you: when I did not know you; when I first met you; when we went to school together; when we graduated; when I believed you to have betrayed our friends and me; when I had to endure life without you; when you found me; when we were together again; then, when you died; and now when I must yet again go on without you. Wasn't it tragic how we parted just as soon as we had found some form of peace, misshapen though it was? I cannot help but pity myself when I think of you.  
  
Unfortunately, right now I am not as pathetic as I am on the night of the full moon. It is not until I am fully transformed that I remember the past at its most vivid, and it is then I realize how completely and hopelessly alone I am. I hang onto the past; I have no one left to share it with. I am obligated to the present; I have my responsibilities. I dread the future; I will have no one to share it with. My life is very repetitive in unhappy matters it seems.  
  
You would think me foolish to allow myself to be so terribly alone when there is still Harry, but you would remember that he was and still is not what you wanted him to be, either. You could no more replace James with his son as I could you with the boy. Anyway, I can never replace you, I know, so I will never try. I also cannot bear the notion of welcoming new friends into my life for I would be sure to only compare and judge them to you and James. Even more unbearable would be that I might find that the new in some way overshadow the old, or I might like them better somehow. I detest these thoughts.  
  
On the subject of replacements, I believe that at one point you thought, once you discovered Harry not to be as much like his father as you presumed, that I might play substitute for James. I was angry and frustrated for quite a while. Could I never be enough? Could you never care about me in the same way I have for so long cared for you?  
  
I know and knew that the answer to both questions is negative.  
  
I am sure you would recall Beatrice, and if I am not mistaken, everyone called her Trixie for short. When she rejected you in our seventh year at Hogwarts, you more or less gave up on romantic love. I know that was how you truly cared about her. With you I knew everything, it seems.  
  
Since her feelings were not reciprocated, I sometimes had the feeling that you experienced the kind of love you wanted and did not have for yourself through the relationship and marriage of James and Lily.  
  
You fancied Trixie so much, and I knew I did not have a chance. I wasn't even an option, was I?  
  
Teenage years and early adulthood are uncertain and frustrating years. I had no courage to tell you what I wanted. My cowardice continued over the years and carried over into our reunion in that dilapidated shack. Difficult as it was to lose you once and then find you again, it would be twice as difficult to tell you that you were the only one to lord over my heart because there was the perpetual fear that you would leave, that you would abandon me.  
  
Upon reflection, I have always been afraid of losing you, really. Whenever you and James were up to trouble, I would casually turn my head away. As prefect it was my responsibility to report and punish the two of you, but I convinced myself these were merely trivial matters and overlooked them. Those were the only occasions, but they make me a hypocrite just the same. Where were my high self-standards then? Where was my pedestal? I guess it was my teenage insecurity that led me to disregard my capable image at those times.  
  
It was lucky for me that you and James reformed for seventh year, or I might have had to taint our friendships with my strengthened sense of justice since it was then that I had my own reformation as well.  
  
By contrast our final school year was not as adventurous as the previous, but it was perhaps my favorite. I am nearly certain it was in that year that I had the pleasure of placing my fingertips upon your smooth, handsome cheek and of openly beholding all of your features with that amazingly hollow feeling in my chest, much like the anxious butterflies of the stomach, only they had ascended to the most precious part of my heart.  
  
Can you guess, dearest, which part?  
  
It was yours.  
  
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Author's Note:  
  
At the end of chapter thirty-five and throughout chapter thirty-six, I was overcome with emotion as a result of Sirius' death. Of course I cried and everything, but I was also bombarding myself with depressing realizations of how other characters were and would be affected. When I finally finished my good cry, I was able to think of a solution, a way to express how I felt about the departure of Sirius in a hopefully decent fanfic.  
  
Lupin!  
  
I'm not exactly fond of boy/boy relationships, but I suppose I pretty much decided what the hell? For me, Lupin was the perfect outlet for this story idea. I only hope you all like it half as much as I do, and if you do, I might add onto this. Thank you for reading. I deeply appreciate your time.  
  
By the way, if conjoined words like can't or won't look funny on the screen, I regret to say I don't know what the problem is or how to fix it. It uploaded this way, and for the sake of the tone and mood of the story, I changed most un-conjoined most of the words. *sigh* I don't understand the problem. Computers are difficult, sometimes... most times.... *sigh*  
  
Please review. It would make me supa happy to hear your opinion. :3 


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